Elegy For My Uncle Steve

Strong, smart, and fun come immediately to mind.  Anyone
who knew you—who knew your big heart and smile—understands.
You would ask, “Well hey, John, what’s been going on with you?”

I would say, “Not much,” and act a bit shy because you had
A certain presence, a confidence.  And I sensed your ability to do
Anything you set your mind to.  You were quick with a joke or a story,

Good ones too.  The kind that made me smile, made me happy
I had an Uncle.  You knew how to do that.  I can hear
Your soft voice: the sound of a Vermonter.  I remember how

You praised Grandma’s cooking and spoke to my Mother with
Respect.  I remember your snores.  I remember how
Your able hands built things that your mind designed.

You welded a giant barbecue, then cooked chicken halves
At picnics.  I liked that.  You were at peace and content with
Your apron, your sauce, and that delicious smoke.  You asked,

With a grateful look in your eye, “Are you ready for another?”
You wanted to give, and to make the most of what life gave.
You had courage and lived for the good of others.

Really, you died twice, but the first time you got another chance.
A miracle, some would say.  Buried alive, then resurrected
From that pile of dirt, pulled back from the very brink.

But this time it is ultimate, complete.  You
Won’t be coming back and I just don’t like it.  No,
I don’t like it very much at all.  I feel very

Unhappy about it, to tell you the truth.  Perhaps,
If you could, you would tell me to not worry, to let you go,
That you are at peace with your Maker.  I want that for you.

But for me, your passing is an enemy that I’m finding
Hard to fight.  I want another handshake, another laugh
With you.  I want you still to be a father, a husband,

A friend who cares and shows it.  So I remind myself:
The love I knew from you came through you, you were the
Uncle Steve God gave me and, my missing you is good news.

(for Stephen A. Kittredge, 1945-2009)